Whenever I saw how happy they were without me, I felt myself swirling down a cold pitfall of jagged knives, down an infinite hole of emptiness. I was so hollow. How incredibly horrible, I thought, how incredibly horrible for these selfish people who once promised me some permanent place in their hearts, to forget about me. To.. to crumple our memories into a huge mess and chuck it across the universe, bursting into dead stars that shined no brighter than the dim, quiet light in our old basement. More than disappointed, more than lost, I was empty. Eventually, I ended up with a sunken, rotting heart that weighed a million tons in my chest— I thought my ribs would explode. 

I see them with new strangers, now— new people to destroy. And though I know I should be burning up with loath, and jealousy.. I’m burning up with the warmth of joy it brings to me. I’m happy for them. I smile involuntarily at the sight of the recent photographs because I’m happy too, to overcome an obstacle bigger than myself, and manifest the acceptance of how twisted my fate will always be. So I keep my part of the memories and let them go, silently wishing them a wonderful life.

(Source: jeakm)